Enrapture
by DreamsReality
Summary: When life as one becomes too much, or too little, how do you make it life as two without melting down? Veela!Draco
1. Chapter 1: The Celebration

**Enrapture:**

**The Celebration**

Chapter One: The Celebration

Words: 2,091

This story will be Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley as well as Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy. There will be explicitness along the way between Harry and Draco, but I will not write it between Hermione and Ron, unless the mood strikes or readers request.

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The war was over. Voldemort was dead and it was time to rebuild. The Wizarding world had lost so many important people. They had to completely restructure the ruling class of the Ministry. It was inconceivable the amount of high-ranking wizards that were connected to the Dark Lord one way or another. But, the remake was necessary and everything seemed to be going just fine. It had only been a few months but already, the witches and wizards found themselves with a new chance at freedom, at life. Laws were reneged, created, destroyed and created. Families didn't have to hide any more. Reparations were paid to those who had suffered the worst and finally, _finally_ life was getting back to what it was supposed to be. Happy.

A number of families that were thought to be connected to the Dark Lord were found to have been spies, turned from his corruption and into the light. Names were cleared and people were allowed to live again. A large number of prisoners from Azkaban were given new trials, and surprisingly, some were released.

The boy-who-lived was given his life back. People were grateful for him, for everything that he had done, had sacrificed for them but they left him alone for the most part. He was able to return to Hogwarts for his final year just another boy, instead of the _Golden Boy_. He enjoyed his newfound freedom immensely.

Dumbledore had died in the epic battle and McGonagall had replaced him as the Headmistress of Hogwarts. No one complained, they were just glad to have a Hogwarts to go back to.

Severus Snape returned to the school as the combined Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and the Potions Master. He and McGonagall had worked it out to combine the two classes, giving the students a better understanding of this and a worldlier grasp of that. Since Voldemort was gone, DADA wasn't really necessary any longer; at least not as much of a necessity. The students still needed to learn how to defend themselves, how to control their magic and keep it, and themselves, safe.

After graduating from Hogwarts, Harry, Ron and Hermione had opted to take a year off to travel. To really travel. The mess they'd done when looking for the Horcrux's hardly counted. But, soon enough, they returned to the Burrow. They had reason to celebrate.

Today was his 17th birthday and he was thrilled. Not just because it was his birthday, but also because it was his 17th birthday! He was finally old enough to make his own decisions. He could apparate wherever he wanted, Floo wherever he wanted and he didn't need an adult to tell him it was okay! It was that last bit that had him more excited than anything else. That, and he hadn't really counted on making it to his 17th birthday. Harry always thought that he would die in the Final Battle right along with all of his friends.

Fortunately, Fate had dealt him a different hand and he was going to take full advantage of it.

He, Ron and Hermione had decided that they were going to go out for his birthday. There was a new Wizarding dance club in London and now that Harry was 17, he was old enough to get in. They were going to go, drink fire whiskey and dance till the club closed. To the Golden Trio, it was the perfect way to celebrate and they couldn't wait.

Molly had graciously agreed to fix them a hearty dinner, knowing full well that her children – for she certainly counted Harry and Hermione as her children – would need it. Especially if they took part in as much celebrating that Fred and George had for their 17th birthday. As she sat their dinner on the table, she had to shake her head to clear the thoughts running through her head. Hermione looked amazing. She'd long ago taken to taming her mop of hair but her dress was amazing. A short little blue number that skimmed over her skin, coming to rest at the middle of her thigh. The neckline was a deep V that showed a little of what she had but covered enough to leave a good deal to the imagination. Though, the back was left bare, save a few straps to hold it together. It truly was an amazing dress, which Hermione paired with glittering black strappy heels.

"Hermione, dear, you look wonderful," Molly said with a wink, her eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," the young witch said, a soft blush flushing up her neck and over her face. "I thought, if this doesn't get his attention, then nothing else will and I'll just have to give up..." she laughed and winked at her surrogate mother.

Molly laughed. "You're right, dearie, if that doesn't get his attention then nothing will and I'll never have you as a daughter-in-law." She laughed again and began fussing about the kitchen, cleaning up the small messes she'd made by hand.

Ron was the next person into the kitchen and he certainly looked good. The years after the war had done wonderful things for his family and now his father had a well paying job with the Ministry. They'd fix things that needed to be fixed, and on a whim, Molly had taken them all shopping for all new clothes. Everything that they had previously owned had been donated or burned. He'd taken his brother's advice for once and actually dressed up. A pair of black silk slacks fitted nicely to his lower body, hugging him in all the right places and brushing against the others. An emerald green silk shirt was buttoned and tucked into the black slacks with a shinning black belt to fasten them. The shirt had been purposefully left unbuttoned, the top three opening to show off a grey and blue geometric tee.

Ron had let his hair grow a little and the wavy locks brushed against his brow, nearly hiding his eyes. "Mione," he greeted, sitting down beside her. "You look very nice," he murmured, a furious blush colouring his cheeks. "Really. That dress is... Well, if you were Ginny, I wouldn't let you out of the house."

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled, "Thank you, Ronald. I'll take that as a very high complement, coming from you."

The playful banter continued as Harry sauntered into the room. "Hermione, Ron, Mrs. Weasley," he greeted, sitting across from the pair. "Wow, Hermione, are you trying to impress someone tonight?" Harry asked, arching a brow. Those eyes gleamed brilliantly as they flicked towards Ron. He chuckled and sighed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes for a moment. "Well, you look amazing. Don't let anyone else tell you different." He smiled brightly at her and leaned forward, watching them with those bright eyes. "Are you two ready for tonight? It's going to be amazing," he commented as he began to cut up his dinner and took his first bite.

Harry himself wore a silver dress shirt, buttoned over a plain black tee. Both shirts were tucked into black jeans, fastened by a matte black belt with a brilliantly shiny buckle. Aside from the difference in fabric, Harry's pants were _fitted._ They didn't _brush_ against anything, the _fit_ against everything. He wore a pair of black Chuck Taylor's that seemed to glitter when the light hit them just right.

The trio made small talk until they finished their dinner and headed back upstairs to brush their teeth. Hermione grabbed a small clutch back and cast a quick undetectable, expanding charm on it. She added a few necessities to it, her wand, lip-gloss, a hairbrush and her money, before tucking it under her arm and moving down the stairs. Harry and Ron cast the same charm on their pockets, allowing them to add their wands and money without feeling the poke of either.

With bright smiles and waves, the group left the Burrow through the Floo and arrived in the greeting room of the club in the blink of an eye. They all cast little spells to tidy them up after their trip before moving to the line. It wasn't long before they were admitted into the club and they all headed straight for the bar, eager to get the night off on the right foot. Hermione bought the first round of drinks, Ron the second and Harry the third before they all found themselves on the dance floor, bouncing and thrumming to the hypnotic beat.

It didn't take too long for the alcohol to relax Ron enough to admit that Hermione looked better than good. She was _sexy_ and he couldn't unsee it once he saw it. He pulled her close and together they danced, almost forgetting about their friend. He chuckled and moved off into the crowd, looking for someone to dance with.

Someone as good looking as Harry Potter didn't go unnoticed by the other single patrons of the club. Everyone wanted a turn with him and before he knew it, he was being paraded around the floor on the arms of men and women alike, dancing and laughing and generally having a great time. It wasn't until one of his dance partners took it upon themselves to buy Harry a drink that his night started to take a downward turn.

The raven found himself being escorted to the bar, far away from his friends who were still dancing with each other, oblivious to where Harry had gone. Shaking his head, Harry informed his dance partner that he didn't want another drink and tried to shake off the strong grip on his bicep. "Excuse me," he growled, jerking his arm away. "I told you already, I don't want another drink. Thanks for the dance, thanks for the offer, but no. Have a goodnight," he murmured, turning from the other and heading back into the crowd. He found Ron and Hermione with little issue; the redhead was tall enough he could almost see him across the room.

"Can we go somewhere else, please?" he asked them, his voice shaking just a little. "People here are much to touchy."

Hermione nodded and pulled herself away from Ron before offering Harry a small smile. "Sorry, Harry. Sure, we can go wherever you want. Do you two mind if I run to the bathroom for a moment? Then we can get out of here," she said.

Ron and Harry both nodded and turned to follow her towards the loos, figuring they might as well go, too. "We'll meet you right here in just a few minutes, Hermione," Harry promised before they disappeared behind the swinging doors and Hermione disappeared behind hers.

Chuckling, Ron looked to his friend, resting one hand on the side of the stall. "This place is great," he told Harry. "Really. It's great. We just shouldn't have come on the opening weekend. It's so crowded," he groaned, shaking his head.

"Yea, lots of people. I feel like a tuna," he chuckled, those emerald eyes gleaming.

When the door opened, neither Harry nor Ron paid it any mind. It was a loo after all, people had to go to the bathroom. That's when that downward spiral of a night opened into a chasm. Before Harry could do anything about it, Ron was out on the floor and he was meeting the tiled wall face first. "Think you can get away so easy?" a slurred voice husked into his ear. "I told you I was going to buy you a drink." Harry groaned as his head made contact with the unforgiving tile again and he felt a rather uncomfortable tingle in his fingers.

"And, I told you, I don't want another drink. What's your problem?" he growled, looking at the man over his shoulder. "Get your hands off of me." He struggled, managing to push himself backwards enough to loosen the tight grip the stranger had on his arm and the back of his neck. "Shove off, arse, I've got plans for tonight and they don't involve you!"

Again, Harry found himself being thrust against the wall and he couldn't help the whimper that slipped past his lips. His world was going black and the last thing he felt was his body being rough handled before his world went black.

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I haven't posted anything in ages. It seems that I had lost my will to write any sort of fanfiction at all.  
>However, I've been reading again and this has been bouncing around in my head for a few days.<p>

I hope you enjoy.

published: 4-10-11


	2. Chatper 2: The Truth

**Enrapture:**

**The Truth**

Chapter Two: The Truth

Words: 2,392

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Life since the war was nothing short of spectacular. The family had made it through, relatively, unscathed and the Wizarding world was beginning to accept them again. Little by little. However, it was a start. It was better than what it had been and that was all they were expecting. Truth be told, they weren't even expecting that.

Money meant little in this post-war age. Family names still held merit but nothing as they had _before. _Once their name had been cleared and it was revealed that they had all acted as spies for Dumbledore, the Malfoy name was not longer a naughty word hushed and whispered in the darkness. It was quite refreshing to be able to deflate the mask, if only a little.

Surprisingly enough, the air about the Malfoy's didn't change too much. It wasn't all a lie, how they presented themselves. However, they could be seen conversing with _normal_ people.

Narcissa especially. She found comfort in an easy conversation, not having to lie. Not having to hide. Not having to present herself in a way that made her feel guilty. It was true, they were still aristocratic society, but that didn't mean they didn't have hearts. Looking down on the lower class families didn't make other's thing highly of her any more, it made her look like a fool for throwing away her second chance.

She had even reached out to old family, ones that had been shunned in the past. She reached out to who was left and made it her mission to make them feel accepted and wanted in her life. She threw parties, in which she invited any and everyone she wanted. Names didn't mean anything any more. Money was nothing to her. What she wanted was a family. What she wanted was to have friends.

She found it in Molly Weasley, though she didn't dare mention the name to her husband or her son, for fear of how they would see it, how they would react to the sudden change in her. But, she really liked Molly. She liked how simply they lived but how full their lives, their family, really were.

Draco found himself at a loss when he returned to Hogwarts for his final year. McGonagall had gotten rid of the houses. Instead of them competing against each other, they were working together. Everyone was still sorted and sent to houses, but that didn't mean anything, not any more.

Gryffindor was where you ended up if the Sorting Hat was convinced you were courageous, brave and loyal.

You were sent to Hufflepuff if the Sorting Hat thought you were a hard worked, had high tolerance and believed in fair play.

The Sorting Hat sent you to Ravenclaw if it believed you intelligent, creative and witty.

And now, the Sorting Hat sent you to Slytherin if it thought you ambitious, cunning and had the qualities of a leader.

Being Pure Blooded gained you no merit in where you went, it was all up to the Sorting Hat and where it thought you would find a true _home._

Fortunately, the suggestion to resort the previous students went unheeded. No one wanted to know if the Sorting Hat had been wrong all those years ago. However, just because you were 'sorted' into a house, didn't mean you weren't encouraged to eat with other houses. The houses were just places to send the students to sleep, give them places to make themselves comfortable and give them the ability to still have Quidditch teams.

It was odd, to say the least. Draco was most unprepared to have a group of Gryffindor's at his dinner table. However, it didn't bother him as much as it should have. And with that new thought in mind, Draco made it through his seventh year and graduated, number two in the class. He was beaten by Hermione Granger and followed closely by Harry Potter. Much to his surprise, that didn't bother him. At all.

As the last year came to a close, Draco approached his godfather and asked if he would be able to stay with him the next year to have special tutelage. Draco wanted to go into Potions, to be come a Potions Master of severe talent. Severus agreed and together they went to McGonagall who embraced the idea of Severus having a teacher's assistant. Draco was thrilled and he worked hard, learning everything he could be taught and taking the potions only to make them his own. Life for the Slytherin Prince was falling into place perfectly.

Until he mother called.

"Draco, I need you to come home," she told him via a fire call. "I have kept something from you for far too long and it's time you know."

That thought alone had Draco's mind racing. What on earth did she deem so important that she needed him to come home before the Christmas break when he only had two weeks left? Granted, it was only for a weekend, but he had students to tutor and potions to perfect. He found out just a few days later.

"Draco, come here," his mother called from the sitting room, a delicate cup of tea in her hands, perched elegantly on a small plate. She smiled softly at her son and motioned for him to take the seat across from her. "Dragon," she began and Draco felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his feet. She never started out a conversation with 'Dragon' unless it was something she knew Draco wasn't going to like.

"Yes, Mother?" he asked, taking a seat and accepting his own cup of tea. "What can I do for you?" he asked softly, a smile pulling at his lips, tilting the corners up alluringly. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Dragon," Narcissa ensured, the smile quivering in its place on her lips. "You don't need to do anything and nothing is really _wrong_, I just need to... We need to talk."

Draco felt a flush spilling onto his face and he swallowed, taking a small sip of his tea to try to calm his nerves. "What is it, Mother?"

"Darling, you know that I am a Veela," she started, placing her cup on the saucer and settling them both on the table in front of her.

"Yes, Mother," he murmured. Draco had grown up knowing that his mother was a Veela. He knew that his father was a Veela Mate and that made no never mind to him. He was a male and he didn't need to worry about that, right? Right. Veela's only attached themselves to women so that they could seduce men and lure them in. Draco didn't have to worry about that.

"Well, Dragon," she said, taking a deep breath and brushing a nonexistent hair from her face. "Dragon, you are also a Veela. I kept it from you so that you wouldn't have to deal with the effects as a child, so that you wouldn't have to worry about hearing your mate's call. And I am so sorry, Dragon, but you will be turning 18 this year and at midnight, your blood will awaken and there will be nothing more I can do for you..."

Draco's elegant brow ached. "I'm sorry, Mother. But, this isn't funny." He put his cup down and stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the chair. "Veela's mature at 17, mother. I turned 17 last year and I haven't had any occurrences. Why didn't you and Father tell me this? I could have been prepared!" he asked, his voice not a yell but not his normal speaking voice, either.

Narcissa frowned and licked her suddenly dry lips. "Dragon, darling," she whispered, smoothing her hands down her skirt. "Dragon, you are a male Veela. That is so very rare that we didn't think we would have to worry about it. But, the night of your 16th birthday, I felt your power begin to waken. And I hid it from you. I hid it from your father until a few nights ago and he convinced me to tell you now. I should have told you sooner, I know that, Draco, but I was so afraid. I didn't want you to have to deal with this life." Tears glimmered in her eyes but she held them back, her eyes beseeching her son.

"It hit when I was 16?" he asked, incredulous. "Why did you wait two years to tell me?"

"Because, the Dark Lord was still around, Draco. I didn't want him to find out, I didn't want him to try to take your power, to use you..." she explained, her voice tight in her throat.

Draco sat back against the chair and closed his eyes, leaning his head to rest back against the pillows. "What will happen to me, Mother?" he asked, needing to know, needing to be ready to accept it, to fight it if he needed. "What will change?"

"You will come into your power, Draco. You will gain the allure that I have; you will gain everything that makes you a Veela. Your hair will grow, your ear tips will point and you will become one of the strongest Veela's in years. There hasn't been a Veela male in over two hundred years, Dragon. I don't really know what to tell you to expect."

"What of my mate, Mother?" he questioned, his eyes still closed and his chest still too tight to breathe. "What of the person my Veela will call out to? How will I know? How will I feel their call?"

"That, I can tell you," Narcissa whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. "You will still feel the call like any other Veela. When your mate's soul calls out to you, you will be drawn to them. Your life will be theirs and their life will be yours. It won't matter what they look like, who they are. All that will matter is that your mate will be there and you will be _happy._"

"Happy?" Draco sneered. "Happy? Is that what you think will happen mother? Someone I've never met before will just become part of me. I won't have a choice! One moment I'll be mine, I'll be me and the next, I'll have them." He couldn't help but hiss the last word as he stood up again and began to pace. "You should have told me!" Draco growled. "You should have told me, Mother. I could have... I could have had all this time to explore! To do everything I've ever wanted to do! But now, now..." he scoffed and turned to face her, his grey eyes sharp. "Now, I'll be drawn to their will. I'll be forced to do what they will for me!"

Narcissa opened her mouth to reply but all that came out was a choked breath. "Draco," she hedged. "Draco, I'm so sorry. I was trying to protect you!"

He shook his head and turned his back to her, starting for the door. "Mother, you didn't protect me from anything. How could you think that this wasn't something I should know! You could have told me last year! After he was gone! You could have told me! I can't change it, I know that, but I could at least, have been studying, I could have found out what to expect, what to be ready for! I'm not ready for a mate, Mother. I'm not ready to settle down! I want to meet my partner at a party, at a club, in a library, at the market. I want to meet the person I'm supposed to be with in a completely random garden! I want to know the person I'm to marry before I'm bound to them! I want all of that, Mother!"

The tears finally fell and Narcissa could do little to stop them. "I'm so sorry, Dragon," she whispered, looking at her lap where her hands were folded, useless. "I'm so sorry. I wish there was more I could do, I wish I could change this Dragon, I do! But, I can't." She sounded defeated and that blatant hurt in her voice washed away some of Draco's fury.

"Mother," he started, moving to sit beside her and gently taking her hand in his. "I'm sorry, Mother. I shouldn't have gotten so upset. I should have and I'm sorry."

She looked at him and gently squeezed his hand in hers, taking a deep breath and forcing it into her lungs. "I will be here to help you, Dragon. You know that," she said, her voice small, unsure, nothing at all the Narcissa Malfoy Draco was used to.

"I know, Mother. I know. And, I'll use my time before I find my mate to learn everything I can. I'll be ready when it comes," he assured her, trying to assure them both. Inside, Draco Malfoy was in a panic.

As soon as he arrived back at Hogwarts, he went straight to the Headmistress's office to inform her of what he had been told. She needed to know, incase his mate was one of the students, one of the other staff members or someone they didn't know. She needed to know, incase things got out of hand. Draco didn't plan for them to get out of hand, but in case they did, he had taken all the necessary precautions he could, for the time being.

Continuing his way to his private quarters, right down the hall from his godfather's, Draco opened a bottle of fire whiskey, poured a healthy glass and allowed himself to think, to really think, what was about to happen to him. By the time the glass was gone, he was feeling better about it. And, by the time the bottle was half-empty, he didn't care.

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I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

I will try to post frequently.

Published: 4-11-11


	3. Chapter 3: The Meeting

**Enrapture:**

**The Meeting**

Chapter Three: The Meeting

Words: 3,343

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Draco Malfoy's 18th birthday came and went. All of the preparations he had made were helpful but, if he was honest with himself, they were useless.

His hair grew to just below his shoulder blades in gentle, white blonde waves. His grey eyes were now the colour of steel; that almost grey, almost blue shade that flitted between the two, teasing.

His ear tips had elongated to gentle points, making his striking face even more elegant. His cheekbones had become more pronounced, but not so as to make his face _girly_. It was feminine, but in the way it had always been: delicate and graceful.

When all of the changes happened, Draco had spent the whole night in front of the mirror, watching. He was captivated by how he had changed, by how everything just seemed to slide into place. It was amazing. All in all, he couldn't say that he hated how he looked. He didn't love it, he would have preferred to be manlier, but it wasn't as disgusting as he had expected it to be.

In the next few days he began to see the changes in his power, he began to feel that desperate pull of the Veela inside of him. It was anxious to be released at last and it wanted its mate.

After all the changes had taken place and his hair had finished growing, Draco allowed himself to retire to bed. He was exhausted. Unfortunately, sleep didn't help him to rest. Instead, he met his Veela for the first time.

"Dearie," she called to him, her voice like silk inside of his head, rubbing at his sleeping ears. "Dearie, wake up. It's time for us to talk. Your mother kept me locked away for far too long. We have missed so much together, you and I."

Draco was shocked to see the Veela stand there in all her glory. He had hoped, fruitlessly, that his Veela would be a male. But, alas, it wasn't. Pulling himself to his full height and moving towards her, he sighed.

"Oh, don't look like that, little one," she chuckled. "I'm not going to mind rape you or anything like that. I just think we should talk. You know, you're the first male any of us has been inside of for a long, long time. There are things you need to know, little dragon."

Taking a seat on the divan she had created for them, he nodded and sat down, running his hands over his legs. "I agree. We do need to talk and I did know that I am the first Veela Male in over two hundred years. My mother told me," he informed her, running a hand through his hair, getting it out of his face.

She smiled at him and moved to sit beside him, leaning back on her arms, looking up at him with glittering blue eyes. "Well, little dragon, I'm glad you know. I'm also hoping that you understand what this means?" she questioned, her eyes narrowing.

Shaking his head, the blonde frowned. "No, I don't think I know what you're referring to."

Rolling her eyes, she let herself collapse back against the divan, her hand covering her eyes. "Well, damn. You're not going to like it," she told him as she stood up and moved to face him. "I'm sure you're not going to like it."

Draco frowned deeper. "Just tell me, won't you?" he asked, his head tilting to the side, causing his hair to fall into his face. "Tell me."

"Alright, if you're sure you want to know." She laughed softly, trying to calm herself more than she found it funny. "It is your duty, as the first Veela Male in such a long time, to bear a child."

"I'm sorry, can you please run that one by me one more time?" he asked, his brows hidden in his hair. "What, exactly, do mean that it's my duty to bear a child. You mean like... Carry a child? Deliver one? Have sex with a man?" he questioned, his eyes too wide. "You've got to be mistaken."

She nodded along with him, listening to his explanation. "Yes, I mean to carry a child, to deliver the same child and to have had sex with a man, my mate – our mate – to be impregnated. I mean that exactly, explicitly."

Draco laughed dryly and shook his head, over and over again. "I'm sorry," he started, "I'm sorry. But, you've got the wrong person." Draco stood up and moved away from the divan, finding no comfort there. "Bearing a child isn't possible when you're a man. I don't have the necessary parts required to carry a child!" he told her, still shaking his head.

Sighing loudly, the Veela sat back down and hung her head, hiding her face in her floor length blonde hair. "I should have fought harder with your mother, Draco. I should have demanded that she let me lose on your 16th birthday. But, she forced me to be dormant and we've lost so much time." Looking up at the young man through her long hair, the Veela sighed again. "Draco, please listen to me. When we meet our mate, when we bond with him and make love with him, it won't matter to that you're a boy. It won't matter that you don't physically have the parts essential for creating a life. I have the parts and when we bond with our mate, you and I will be closer than we are now. When we bond, our mate will impregnate me and through me, you will carry the child."

_Oh, this was so not happening,_ Draco thought. "Why me?" he asked, frowning at the Veela. "Why did you have to chose me? Why couldn't you have picked someone else? I don't want this."

"I'm sorry, little Veela Male, but you don't really have a choice... The child that we make, the child that you and your mate will make, will be the strongest creature this world has seen." She sighed again; man this was becoming a regular thing. "I'm sorry that this has happened. I'm sorry that you're uncomfortable with this. But, it's the hand you've been dealt. It's what you're stuck with. You're a Veela. You'll meet our mate and we'll have a child."

Draco groaned loudly and hung his head, defeated. "What else do I need to know?" he asked her, watching her with those steel eyes. "Is there anything else I need to do, anything I need to be aware of for when I meet our mate?" he questioned, trying to be reasonable about this. Wanting everything to be _just so,_ at least in his head.

"Yes. When you feel his call, it'll be desperate, Draco. You'll feel it and he'll need you. Right then. Something bad will happen to him if you don't get to him in time. Something terrible that will destroy everything we'll try to build will be lost if you don't get to him in time. Do you understand?" she asked, watching him with reddening blue eyes. Her Nature was trying to come out, trying to protect the mate that they didn't even have yet.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked. "What's going to be happening to him?" the young Malfoy asked, his heart hammering in his chest. "How will I know? How will I feel his call?" Draco asked her, that panic he had been fighting down was now trying to hit him full force again.

"You'll feel a sense of panic, pain, fear... Something that won't match what you're doing. It'll just hit you out of nowhere, Draco. That will be him; it'll be his call. And you'll just have to let it lead you to him."

He nodded slowly and took a deep breath, determined to swallow the panic, to fight the helplessness he couldn't do anything about. "Okay. I won't let him, us, down."

The Veela seemed to be appeased with that and she pulled away, nodding once to the Malfoy heir. "I trust you," she told him, offering a small smile. "Don't let me down, little dragon." With that, she was gone, lost to the dream and leaving Draco alone to mill through everything he'd been told.

"What the hell am I going to do?" he questioned himself, covering his hands with his face.

Needless to say, the next few weeks had Draco on edge. He was more than a little glad that school was out for the summer. He couldn't have faced going there with all of his issues. What if he had used his allure on one of the students? They would have all been in a world of trouble. He didn't even want to think what McGonagall would have done if something like that had happened. What if he had used it by accident on one of the professors? He didn't know and, honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Just like his days of actually being at Hogwarts, Draco was more than a little glad for their summer vacation. He had time to get himself, and his Veela, under control.

Groaning, the youngest Malfoy rolled over in his bed and glanced at the clock. July the 31st. Nothing spectacular about that day but he had finally agreed to go out with Blaise and Pansy. They wouldn't leave him alone. He got calls, he got fire calls, he got owls and finally, they'd sunk so low to actually show up at his door and demand that they go out with him. He so very much didn't want to. He didn't but, he knew, that if he didn't, they'd show up and head hunt him. He groaned again and pushed himself out of bed. He needed to shower, eat and then started getting ready. If he was going to go, he'd at least look better than both of them. He needed time to plan his outfit.

After dinner, Draco sat in the study, leafing through a book on Veelas. He used every free minute he had researching them, looking for any clue, any tidbit of information he could use to help himself when it came time to meet his mate. He was still unsure of what it would feel like to hear the Soul Call. He didn't know if he would actually hear it with his hears or if he would feel it inside of himself. His Veela had tried to explain it but he didn't really understand. And, trying to talk to his mother about it, all she had said was, "You'll feel it, Dragon. When you're mate is calling for you, you'll just know." He didn't find that helpful, either.

The clock on the mantle chimed, signaling that it was time for him to leave, he had to meet Blaise and Pansy at the club. They were going to the new one that had just opened. Apparently, Pansy's friend's father owned it. Amazing, right? Pansy with a friend.

As he flooed himself through, he moved into the line and gave his name. The doorman immediately let him pass, telling him that his party had just arrived. Draco was a bit miffed that he'd arrived last, but he took it as arriving fashionably late. Moving to the bar, he took his place beside his friend's and grinned. "Blaise, Pansy," he murmured to them, accepting the fire whiskey and taking a long, healthy drink.

"Bout time you got here, Malfoy," Blaise grinned, holding up his glass in a toast. "Pansy and I thought you got lost."

"Or chickened out," the ravenette grinned, her eyes gleaming with humor. "I was afraid I was going to have to go to your house and drag your laze arse here in your lounge clothes. Thanks for sparing me that."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Ever heard of fashionably late?" he asked, taking another long drink as he folded himself elegantly into the barstool. "There are so many people here," he commented as he finished off his drink and signaled the tender for another. "Did we really have to come opening weekend?" he questioned.

Pansy smacked him with the back of her hand and did roll her eyes. "What, too many people for you, Malfoy?"

Blaise stood up and offered Draco a shot of some clear liquid. "Come on, Drake, take that and lets get out there and dance. There are plenty of singles here. Pick one and fuck it, you need to get laid."

Draco took the shot and shook his head before finishing off his second fire whiskey. "Take Pansy into the bathroom and shag her brains out. Oh, wait, she doesn't have any," he chuckled at the smirk from Blaise and the glare he received from Pansy. "Maybe I'll do just that," he grinned, his eyes moving over the people around them. There certainly were plenty to choose from.

That thought had his Veela waking and she was not having any of it. He could see her, in his mind's eyes, her wings spread wide and her talons flexing. It was a warning. If he tried to get too touchy with someone else, she'd have something to say about it. _Our mate, little dragon,_ she hissed at him, her eyes flashing a dangerous red. _No one else._ Draco sighed and nodded to her, silently agreeing.

As he moved towards the dance floor, he let his confidence ooze from every pore, this was going to be too much fun. Spotting a dark haired girl dancing by herself, Draco moved up to her and offered his hand, pulling her close to his body. His Veela was appeased that he was dancing with a woman and not a male; she didn't have to worry about a girl.

However, as the night went on, Draco seemed to lose interest in his dance partners. Something was going on and he didn't like it. Swallowing hard, he excused himself from the girl who was currently grinding herself against him, and moved to the bar, away from the push of the patrons. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts. Something was going on. Closing his eyes and allowing himself to lean on the bar for a moment, Draco felt it. The Soul Call. It was mild at first, just a slight thrum of fear and then pain. Blinding pain. Draco gripped his chest and took a staggering breath.

He felt it again, harder this time and before he knew what he was doing, he was moving. His feet knew the path before his mind recognized they were moving. His mate, his mate, was calling to him. He needed to get there, his Veela's warning hanging in the air. Something bad would happen if he didn't get there in time. Pushing himself harder, Draco shoved people out of the way. His talons were already growing and he could feel the heat in his core. His body was burning with its need. He needed to get there; he needed to protect his mate.

Throwing the door to the bathroom open, Draco found a very strange sight. Ronald Weasley was passed out on the floor and a larger gentleman was feeling up a bleeding and, by the looks of it, mildly unconscious boy. He couldn't tell who it was. His hair was hanging in his eyes and his head lolled to the side. But, as soon as he saw the limp man, Draco knew. _His mate. _Someone else was touching his mate. The Veela inside of his screeched her agony when Draco's eyes took in the rest of the form.

The boy's pants were ripped and hanging around his knees. The Veela howled in distress and Draco was on the man before he could blink. Draco threw the larger man back away from the limp form and grinned when he heard the indistinguishable sound of bone on tile. He hoped he'd done real damage. However, just as he was turning to inflict more on the babbling man, his Veela screamed. Their mate was sliding into unconsciousness and they both knew that that wasn't a good thing. Standing up, Draco lifted the man into his arms and moved for the door.

He was about to call for help when he recognized a woman standing beside the door. She was beautiful but nothing really registered with him until he saw her eyes. "Hermione Granger," he murmured. "I believe you're here with Ronald Weasley, is this correct?" Without waiting for her to respond, he continued on. "I believe he's unconscious on the floor. Something must have happened," he said softly moving to stand where no one could see him holding his precious bundle.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, incredulous. "What's –What?" she yelled. "On the floor! Why didn't you pick him up, too?" Pushing past him, she moved into the bathroom, her wand in her hand. Draco could see people looking at them and that had his Veela hissing in fury. He moved back into the bathroom and locked the door with a wave of his hand. "That man," he said, indicating the one leaning against the wall, his eyes fluttering – an obvious sign of brain damage, "was attacking my mate." He growled, letting that word slip out before he could censure it.

Hermione had just finished checking Ron out when she heard Draco's growl. "Your mate?" she questioned, finally looking over the boy in Draco's arms. "Draco... What are you talking about?"

The Slytherin Prince growled again, his Veela furious. She demanded that he take their mate how NOW! but he couldn't. He had to figure out a way to get out without drawing too much attention. He didn't want anyone else touching his mate. His Veela grudgingly agreed to that and quieted down, letting Draco think. "Yes, my mate, Granger. I heard his Soul Call and I couldn't fight it. When I got here, that man was trying to _rape_ my _mate!_" he snarled, his voice a low sibilant hiss.

"Soul Call?" she asked, trying desperately to put pieces together. "Mate?" And then it hit her like a ton of bricks. "You're a Veela Male?" she asked, her eyes too wide.

Draco nodded, cradling his mate and stroking his hair, uncaring of the position he was currently in, trying to soothe this clearly distressed man. His soul was still calling and Draco was trying to soothe him. He could tell that it was working, the man didn't fuss in his arms and he was actively seeking his warmth, but his soul was still uneasy. "I don't think he was able to rape my mate," Draco whispered. "It was close... It was so close, though..."

Hermione stared up at Draco, shaking her head. "You just found out that he's your mate?" she questioned him. "Do you even know who you're holding?"

Draco shook his head, thinking her questions pointless. "Yes, I just found out. But, it doesn't matter. He's my mate. I can feel it. We can both feel it. My soul soothes his," he whispered, nuzzling into the dark hair and trying to think past his panic. "Help me figure out how to get out of here, Granger!" Draco pleaded.

"Draco, I will. But, please... Look at him... Look at who you're holding..." she whispered.

"Why does it matter? We just need to get him to a healer!" the Veela Male bellowed.

Hermione jumped and nodded, Draco could find out later. He was right, though she'd never tell him. They needed to get Ron, Harry and the other male to a healer soon.

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I know Draco seems a little distracted, but he's in an odd place right now.

His Veela has just found it's mate, possible, being raped. He's trying desperately to control it and not do anything stupid.

Please, review. It's heart breaking to get online and see that I've had 383 hits today and no one has reviewed.

Published: 4-11-11


	4. Chapter 4: The Realization

**Enrapture:**

**The Realization**

Chapter One: The Realization

Words: 2,486

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Hermione gathered Ron into her arms and reached out for Draco, almost pulling her hand back when the blonde hissed at her. "If you want to get out of here, you've got to let me help," she soothed, her eyes gentle. She wanted to help Harry as much as she wanted to get out of there.

Draco nodded, accepting her logic. He gripped her forearm and before he knew it, they were standing in a rather opulent living room. He looked around and furrowed his brows. "You said you were taking us to a healer, Granger," the Veela Male snarled, his eyes flashing a dangerous red.

"Relax, Malfoy," Hermione murmured. "We're at my friend Laryn's house. I met her last summer at St. Mungo's. She's a healer," she assured him, moving to lay Ron on the couch. "Laryn!" She called out, her voice almost desperate. Hermione was afraid. Afraid of what would happen to Ron and to Harry, but more than that, she was afraid of what the Veela would do if someone didn't help his _mate_. Soon.

A short, older woman with curly salt and pepper hair came bustling into the room. "Hermione?" Laryn questioned, tilting her head to the side. "Hermione, dear, what is it? What's happened?" Looking about the room to see it strewn with a tall redhead and then the blonde who held the brunette, she went into Healer mode automatically. "Who is hurt the worst?" she questioned as she pulled her wand from her pocket and ran it over the redhead and then the brunette in the blonde's arms.

"My mate," Draco growled, his heart still beating too fast in his chest. "My mate is hurt."

The tone of his words caught her attention and she nodded, turning from him, "Follow me."

Together, they moved through the little house and into a room that didn't belong at all with the quaint and cozy setting of the rest of the house. It was still cozy, but it had that sterile feel to it and for that, Draco was most grateful. His Veela, however, didn't feel the same. She was furious that someone had tried to hurt her mate, that someone dared to touch him. As Laryn motioned for Draco to lay his bundle down, the Malfoy slowly made his way across the room and settled his brunette onto the table.

The boy's head turned away from him, his dark hair falling over his face. "Please," he whispered, hurt and anger and fear lacing his words. "Please, do whatever you can for him. I… I can't lose him after I've just found him." Draco stood beside the bed, holding a slender hand in his and stroking the back gently, marveling in the softness of his skin and the comfort that such a tender touch brought to them both.

It was that time that Hermione chose to move into the room, her eyes guarded and cautious. "Draco," she started her voice a whisper. "Draco, I think you need to explain that to Laryn. If he really is your mate, then he's going to come into his inheritance tonight. It's his 17th birthday," she told him, watching the blonde with those careful eyes.

The Veela growled, low and deep in his chest. "Too close," he told her, turning those intense eyes on the meek brunette. "I will, though, thank you," he murmured. "I would not have thought to do so." His voice was strained as he tired to fight back the Veela's roaring inside his head. Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes, fighting back against the anger and the need to _control_ the situation.

"I am a Veela Male," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "The first in over two hundred years. This man," he motioned to the limp brunette, "is to be my mate. I felt his Soul Call and I found him being…_attacked._" The hesitation in his voice was clear as the Veela Male strove to find the correct word. He wanted to say something else but that would only have made his hackles rise faster. "Since tonight is his birthday, he will come into his blood inheritance today. I don't know what that'll mean for him, there's no record on the last Veela Male's mate…" he told them. "I can only assume that the same things that happen to a normal Veela's mate will happen to him."

The healer gaped at Draco, her mouth hanging open slightly and her eyes too wide. "A Veela Male…" she repeated, her voice awestruck. "I will do everything I can for him," she told the anxious blonde. "Though, because of his blood inheritance coming about tonight, I am unable to give him anything to tamper with how he may change. I will, however, examine him and give him a Dreamless Sleep potion so that he may rest comfortably and not be under a forced sleep, as well as something to help with the ache I am sure he is feeling. You don't take a beating to warrant those wounds without hurting," she explained, looking up at the uneasy Veela.

Draco nodded and looked back at the limp figure, his eyes unreadable. "I just want him to be alright. He's so important already…" the Veela whispered, though the two women heard him just fine.

"Might I suggest you and Hermione go and have a cup of tea? I'll check your mate out and as soon as I have looked him over, I will come and get you…" she said softly, nodding towards the door. "Do you find that acceptable, Mr….?"

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," he told her. "No, I don't really find it acceptable, but I suppose you really aren't able to work with an anxious Veela hovering over your shoulder," he said, sighing again as he forced himself to release the beloved hand. Instantly, Draco felt as if his soul was roiling. The Veela inside of him, who had been placated by the skin to skin contact of her vessel and her mate, roared back to life. _I want him! _She bellowed, her talons lengthening again. _Don't you dare leave him, little dragon. We must make sure he is safe._ Draco leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the boy's hand before turning away. "I will be right down the hall."

Though, as soon as Draco pulled away and Harry's soul could no longer feel his mate's presence, he began to squirm and whine, his fingers clenching and unclenching, searching for that comforting touch. Luckily, Hermione had already caught Draco's attention and she was leading him back to the kitchen, otherwise, she was sure, there would have been no way to get Draco out of the room so that Laryn could examine her patient. Hermione paused before stopping by the living room to check on Ron, who was still out. "It seems he's been stunned," the petite girl murmured. "I'm sure he'll be fine soon," though she did not sound convinced.

"You and Weasley are dating," Draco stated as he sat down at the little breakfast nook, his eyes darting to the door as his ears strained for any sound that would tell him his mate was in distress, while on the inside, his Veela was throwing a proverbial temper tantrum. She was not at all pleased that her vessel had ignored her. _How dare you! _She hissed. _We must make sure he's safe! You can't just leave him alone, little dragon! Go to him! GO! _

Draco sighed again and shook his head. 'I can't,' he told the Veela. 'I need to let the healer examine him. We are to anxious and our flux of emotions will be too much. He will feel it and react with us. If she's to look him over properly, she needs to have his magic and not ours, too.'

While logically she understood what he was telling her, she didn't agree with it. _I don't care, little dragon. Take me back to him. His soul is unsettled! I want him now!_

Draco chose to ignore her and instead turned his attention to Hermione, listening to her talk about how she and Ron weren't exactly dating but they were together, nonetheless. "It's nice, really," she told him, her eyes glittering as she spoke about the redhead. "He's a lot different than we were when you knew us, Draco," she told him. "We all are different."

Draco nodded, accepting that. It was true; a lot had happened since they had completed their sixth year at Hogwarts and the seventh year, they didn't have much to do with each other, all taking classes that would allow them to take their NEWTs, as well as train them for their future career choices. "I'm sure that's true, Granger," he said without thinking, his mind off in the other room, wondering what the healer was finding with his precious mate.

"I have a name, Draco," she whispered as she fixed a cup of tea for herself and then started one for him. "Two sugars and a dollop of cream, is that right?" she questioned, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, shaking his head. The Veela was wrecking her havoc inside of him and he suppressed a groan of pain. "Yes, Hermione, that's right. How do you know how I take my tea?"

The brunette witch smiled, turning those intelligent hazel eyes on him. "I paid attention when we were in school. And, I think the whole school heard you when you hissed at Pansy about getting it wrong for the hundredth time…" she chuckled as she moved towards the table, holding one cup in her hand and offering the other to Draco.

The blonde actually cracked a small smile and nodded to her, accepting the tea and taking a diminutive sip. "It's perfect, thank you," he told her as he allowed the smile to stay on his lips a little longer. "I appreciate this. Bringing us here. And… And, I must say that I am grateful for all you and your friends did for me and mine, Hermione. I was sure that we were all going to die in the Fiend Fire," he said quietly, his eyes lost in the memory. "I still can't believe everything got so out of hand so quickly. We were such idiots," he hissed, his voice low. "If I would have known then, what I know now, I would never have done some of the things I did. I would never have called you what I did. That was unforgivable and I apologize."

Hermione sat in silence, in awe of the gorgeous blonde. She has never, ever, heard Draco Malfoy say he was sorry for or even that he regretted anything that he did. She was dumbstruck. "You… You are welcome but more importantly, you are most forgiven, Draco. We all did things that we aren't proud of. We did things that we wish we could redo, things that we wish we could change. But, since we can't go back, we just have to go forward, yea? Make the best of what we have and get better from there."

Draco nodded, agreeing with her. "Speaking of going forward, what is it you're interested in? I remember something about you taking the year off to travel, to really see the world. Did you finish that? Are you ready to settle down?"

Hermione thought that this was the longest she had heard Draco talk without offering some sort of insult or spouting something about being better than everyone else. "Well," she started, "we spent a lot of time traveling around and meeting new people, exploring. But, now, I think we're all ready to be home. I want to return to Hogwarts to teach. I would love to teach Transfigurations or Ancient Ruins," she confided in him.

For the next twenty minutes or so, they talked of Hermione's aspirations and a little of what Draco was doing with himself. Hermione found it most intriguing that Draco had returned to Hogwarts, especially for how much he complained about it while they had attended. The pair shared a few laughs when Hermione recounted something that she had come across while traveling only to find out that Draco had been there with his parents as well and had seen the incident occur.

But, as soon as they were about broach a different subject, Laryn appeared in the doorway, a small, easy smile on her lips. "Other than a large bruise on his forehead and across his cheek, as well as a few bruised ribs and fingernail wounds, he is physically alright," she said softly, moving into the room. "Would you like to see him?"

Draco was on his feet, moving for the door as soon as she offered for him to see his mate. He didn't bother to wave a hand to Hermione or to even really thank her, he was too focused on seeing for himself that his mate was, in fact, alright. He sighed in relief when he saw his mate tucked into the bed, one arm out and the other beneath the covers. As Draco go closer to the bed, his mate seemed to almost wake up, responding to the Veela's presence. Tears pricked at Draco's eyes and he took the seat beside the bed, grateful to the healer for thinking of him.

"My mate," he whispered as he took exposed hand in his and allowed himself a moment to relax. He had been so very worried for his mate, worried for their bond and what would happen if his mate had died. He groaned softly and took a deep breath, allowing himself to really, really relax. Reaching up, Draco brushed some of the hair from the boy's face, soothing him gently and looking at the ugly bruise that marred the perfect face.

A face that Draco instantly recognized.

A face with a scar that everyone in the Wizarding world would recognize.

He swallowed hard and sat back in the chair, still clutching the hand. Shaking his head, Draco gasped for breath, his heart beating much too hard, his whole body trembling like a leaf in a wind storm. Though, unknowingly, the touch of his mate served to calm him considerably and before he knew it, he was perfectly calm. However, he was terribly shocked.

_Well, I'll be damned,_ his Veela purred out. _Harry Potter._

Draco groaned and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the mattress beside Harry's hip. "Yea, that just about sums it up. Harry Potter is my mate."

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So, Draco finally finds out who he's been coddling!

Yay. Draco Malfoy, meet your destined mate, Harry Potter.

Yay. As always, please review!


	5. Chapter 5: The Bond

**Enrapture:**

**The Bond**

Chapter One: The Bond

Words: 2,830

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It still hadn't sunk in yet. Harry _bloody_ Potter. Draco groaned and leaned back in the chair, covering his eyes with his hands and pressing the heels in, groaning louder. Harry Potter. His mate was Harry _freaking_ Potter. How in the name of MERLIN had that happened? Somewhere, someone was having a good laugh. Really, this was just some big joke. It had to be.

But, looking at the boy on the bed and feeling how his soul called, Draco new it was true. "The cosmos have it out for me, that's all," he whispered to the empty room, lowering his hands to rest over his stomach. He sighed softly and stood up; moving so he could pace the room, thinking it would serve them right if he wore a trail in the floor. It would be an easy fix but that was far from the point. "Why me? Why me, honestly? I've been good! I've tried to fix things! I even apologized to Granger!" he hissed to no one, fuming his frustration to the room. Logically, Draco knew that this wasn't helping; he knew that this wouldn't change anything, but it still made him feel better to wear some of his irritation down.

Finally, when Draco had come to relative terms with having _Harry Potter_ as his mate, he settled into the chair to wait.

Unfortunately, he had to wait a while. The green eyes stayed closed, fluttering lightly, but never moving enough to wake. Harry groaned and shifted, his fingers clenching around Draco's hand before he settled back in. The Pain Reliever potion he had ingested helped to lessen the pain in his body but it didn't dull it completely. His back burned and his body felt like it was on fire. What was going on!

Groaning loudly, he arched his back off of the bed and tightened his hold on the pale fingers. It hurt, so badly! After a few moments of the complete and utter fire burning though his body, Harry relaxed against the mattress and panted, his mouth open slightly. A light sheen of sweat covered his exposed skin and Draco frowned, carefully extracting his throbbing fingers from his mate's hand and shaking them out, trying to get blood to flow back into them as he moved towards the sink. Taking a wash cloth in his hand, he wetted it and returned to Harry's side, gently washing the sweat from his forehead.

The touch seemed to calm the brunette further, allowing him to drift into a more peaceful sleep. Still, it was another few hours before Harry stirred enough to wake and Draco had fallen into a fitful, trembling sleep. His Veela was unsettled that their mate still hadn't woken and it was drawing on her patience to wait for him to wake for himself.

Early dawn approached and finally emerald eyes cracked open. Harry groaned softly and turned his head to the side, stretching his stiff muscles. It took him only a few seconds to realize that he wasn't in his home nor was he at the Borrow. The events from the night before came crashing back on him and he sat up, looking around frantically.

He'd been in the Hospital enough times to recognize some of the equipment and the set up, maybe Ron had come to his rescue and knocked the arse out? Maybe he and Hermione had brought him to St. Mungo's? Granted, it didn't look like any room he'd been in inside of St. Mungo's, but it was always a possibility that the redecorated, right? Slowly, he began to calm himself down and Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. Everything was okay, really. Everything would be _fine._ When Hermione and Ron came to visit him later, they'd tell him what happened. Or, when the Healer came in to check on him, they'd tell him what happened. There was no need to panic, really. Everything would be perfectly alright.

Lying back against he pillows, Harry looked up at the ceiling and sighed, trying to relax. Until he saw the blonde man lounging in the chair beside his bed. 'Who the hell is that?' he asked himself, turning to his side to better look at the other. Narrowing his eyes, Harry took in everything he could see of the stranger.

His clothes looked nice, expensive even. His jaw was elegant, even a little feminine. His nose was small and cute, sitting square in the middle of his face. His lips were a little thin, but they were pink and vibrant looking; a soft, slender cherry tongue dashed out to wet them, responding to Harry's intense gaze.

'Rather attractive, huh,' Harry commented to himself, smiling at the man. He wanted to see those eyes, though. The brunette felt compelled to look into the man's eyes, to see his soul. Reaching out, as if by its own accord, Harry's hand moved towards the unknown man's face, his fingertips tracing his lips and along his jaw before stopping at his lips. The very tip of his thumb moved across the other's lips, outlining them with the softest of caresses. He sighed to himself and something that had been restless inside of him settled down, just after the one, feather-light stroke.

Smiling, Harry settled himself back against the pillow, still lying on his side so that he could watch the stranger. Noticing that the man's hand was laying on the mattress beside him, Harry shrugged and slid his fingers to lace with the pale fingers. It felt right, he couldn't explain it, but it did.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, the other stirred. First it was just a hitch in his breathing and then he rolled his head to the other side, searching for a more comfortable position. Before long, those eyes opened and Harry was rewarded with the first look into glittering silver eyes. They were familiar, so familiar. Then, as if he was struck by lightening, Harry jerked himself into a sitting position and ripped his hand from the other's grip. "Draco Malfoy," he breathed, his eyes too wide. "What are you doing here? Why are you sitting beside my hospital bed? Where are Ron and Hermione? Why are you here!" he asked, panic rising in his voice.

Chuckling softly, Draco sat himself up in the chair and studied Harry for a moment before he settled back in. "Harry Potter," he commented, acknowledging the other with a soft smile. "I'm here because I found you in the loo at the night club. I'm sitting beside your bed for a bit of a more complicated reason that I will explain sooner rather than later. Ron was stunned and is resting on the couch with Hermione beside him, I suppose. Again, I'm here because I found you. The Healer, Laryn, didn't think it would be safe if you were alone until you've woken. She had to retire to bed because she has a shift at St. Mungo's in the morning and left Ron in Hermione's care and you in mine."

When it seemed that Harry wasn't going to protest, Draco stood up and moved to the counter, taking a small vial and uncorking it. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, moving to sit on the end of Harry's bed, holding out the vial. "This is for your nerves, Laryn asked that I give it to you when you woke and now that you're awake, here you go…" he said, his eyes softening as he looked over Harry's scared face. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, looking at Harry with pleading eyes.

"I don't know why," Harry started as he took the glass vial from Draco, "but I believe you." Making a face at the bitter taste of the potion, Harry sighed and shook his head. "I never thought I would see you again, Malfoy," he confessed after a moment, looking down at the blonde at the edge of his bed. "After graduation, I thought you'd gone away, never to be seen again. If I'm honest, it's good to see you. I was wondering what happened to you… With everything that occurred during the war, I wanted to know if you were safe."

Harry's confession shocked Draco straight to his core and he smiled weakly, getting more comfortable at the end of the bed. "I didn't go away," he started. "I spoke to McGonagall and returned to Hogwarts. I'm Severus' teaching assistant…" he chuckled, his eyes watching as his fingers plucked absently at a loose thread on the quilt. "He's teaching me as well. I want to pursue a career in potion making and return to Hogwarts as their Potion's Master."

"I can see that," Harry said with a smile. "I always knew you'd go into teaching. You paid much too much attention to the teachers when we were in school…" He laughed softly and moved to sit up, propping the pillows up behind him and leaning on them. Then, an odd thought struck him and he caught Draco's eyes. "Malfoy," he started, his voice a mere whisper. "Why doesn't this feel strained? Normally, we can't last two seconds in the same room and here we are, not ten feet from each other and we're behaving like… Like friends."

Draco shifted slightly and leaned against the bottom rail of the bed. "Well," he murmured, his eyes searching Harry's face. "I've got an inkling…" He chuckled humorlessly and ran a hand over his face before pushing it into his hair and shaking out the loose waves. "Promise me that you will listen to what I have to say before you freak out?" he requested, those eyes still searching Harry's face before settling on the glimmering emerald gems.

"I promise," Harry whispered, caught up in the luminous silver pools of Draco's eyes. "I'll listen."

Taking a deep breath, the Malfoy started. He took Harry back a few weeks, telling him of his trip home and what Lady Malfoy had unloaded on him, wisely choosing to leave out the part about them conceiving a child, and slowly brought the story to the present. He included all of the events of the night before, even his time with Blaise and Pansy, before ending it. "Which leads us to where we are now," he murmured, still watching Harry's face. Much to his surprise, he didn't find the disbelieving hatred in those bright jade eyes he was expecting to find there. What he found shocked him more than anything ever could have, he found acceptance; a halting acceptance, but acceptance nevertheless.

"A Veela Male," Harry hummed, "the first in two hundred years and I'm your mate?" He didn't know how he felt about it but the bond that Draco had mentioned made sense. He was comfortable in the other's presence when that had never happened before, and for the first time in seventeen years, Harry felt like he _belonged._

"Yes," the Veela Male whispered. "You're my mate." He shifted a little and the action caused his leg to brush against Harry's underneath of the covers. The almost contact sent a ripple through the both of them and Draco's eyes hazed over lightly. "I'm sorry," he started, settling himself so they weren't talking. "My Veela feels that you're close and she's… excited… to be near you," he confessed, blushing ever so lightly.

"It's alright," Harry said softly, "really. I… I didn't mind." He blushed deeply and laughed at himself, shaking his head. "If anyone could see this, they'd think we've both gone mental."

Draco nodded, a playful smile pulling at his lips. "You're right."

"There's a first," the brunette laughed. "You admitting that I'm right about something. Never thought I'd see the day, Draco Malfoy agreeing with me."

Blushing a little deeper, Draco offered a shy smile. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you say my name," he whispered, his eyes dropping back to that loose thread. "You always called me Malfoy…"

"Or Ferret," Harry supplied quietly. "You know, I've had an affinity for ferrets ever since fourth year…"

Draco glared at the green-eyed boy and looked away.

"Hey… Hey, I'm sorry," Harry hastened. "I didn't mean to upset you… I was just trying to joke with you. I didn't mean anything by it, Draco…"

Looking down hid his face and Draco knew it was cowardly to hide. He sighed and looked up at the other, catching saddened eyes. He offered a small smile and nodded, those silver pools searching Harry's face. "It's okay. I'm just sensitive about that little… adventure.

Stifling a laugh, Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry about that, I suppose… Though, it wasn't really my fault. You were trying to curse me with my back turned. Moody just gave you what you deserved." He nodded, as if to accentuate his point, before bursting into laughter again. "Besides, it was hysterical." He chuckled happily and lounged against the pillows, stretching his legs out and brushing against Draco again. His eyelids fluttered and he made a soft, pleasured sound, looking up and catching Draco's eyes.

The blonde was about to retort when Harry touched him. "Merlin," he whispered, his breath catching in his chest. "It didn't feel like this when you were asleep," he mused, slipping off of the bed and moving to sit beside Harry's bed, getting comfortable in the chair again. "It was calming, to be touching you, but it wasn't the electrical sensation that it is now…" he whispered, running a hand through his hair, brushing the locks from his face.

Blushing deeply, Harry reached out and took Draco's hand in his, lacing their fingers together. He shivered hard and had to close his eyes, not wanting to show Draco the pleasure they surely held. "What's going on?" he whispered. "Why does it feel like this, Draco? Why am I not repulsed that we're holding hands?"

Breathing a little harder than normal, Draco stood and moved closer to Harry. He slid his free hand along Harry's exposed arm, brushing it so tenderly. To his delight, goose flesh broke out along Harry's skin and Draco's eyes sparkled brightly. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice a silken command. "Don't hide from me, Harry. You never hid from anything before, don't start now. Not with me."

Harry whimpered softly and closed his eyes tightly before looking up at the blonde. He couldn't ignore the softly spoken order. He couldn't and he didn't want to. The tone of Draco's voice had shifted to something soft, something caressing and it made his spine tingle. "Draco," he whispered, those eyes glued to his mate's, watching as they twinkled.

"It's the bond, Harry," the blonde whispered. "It's the bond. It knows you're awake and it's searching you out. The Veela inside of me knows and she wants to claim you for herself and she wants you to claim me…" he gasped, his voice small but still that unbelievable caress.

Whimpering softly, Harry managed to pull his eyes from Draco and he looked down, not meeting those limpid pools. He couldn't, he didn't dare, for fear of what would happen if he gave in. "Please," he begged softly. "Please, don't, Draco. It's too soon. Please, give me time."

The Veela Male groaned and tried to turn away, tried to pull back from his alluring mate. But, the power was swelling around them and he couldn't, not matter how hard he fought. "Sate it, Harry," he breathed out. "Sate it. Give it something to know you aren't rejecting it."

Confusion lit in those jade eyes and Harry arched his back under the powerful onslaught. "How, Draco?" he pleaded, unconsciously pulling the blonde closer to him, drawing Draco onto the bed and making him to kneel beside of him. "How do I sate it?"

Even as he crawled onto the bed and straddled Harry's lap, Draco knew they were too far gone. The bond was demanding payment, or at least a first step in the right direction and Draco's Veela was doing her part to demand that it be fulfilled right then. "Kiss me," he answered, one hand moving to press into the pillows beside Harry's head, their eyes locked together. "Kiss me, Harry, please…"

Licking his lips in unconscious submission, Harry leaned up and pressed his lips to Draco's. The electricity that passed between them drew gasps from both of their throats and Harry whined, draping his free arm around Draco's shoulders and pulling him closer, pressing them flush together.

"What the _bloody hell_ is going on in here!"

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

For those of you that think Harry's moving a little fast, or that they're OOC, you're right.

The bond between a Veela and it's mate is always a tricky thing. Sometimes, they can fight it, sometimes they can't. Harry and Draco just seem to not be able to fight it, and I want it to be that way. It's time they both had a little loving. Apparently, someone else doesn't agree but their bond, their love, will win through in the end. :)

Updates will occur once a week. Possibly twice if I've gotten reviews or I'm feeling loving.

Please read and review.

Published: 4/18/11


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